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The Chosen

 

The days seemed to pass peacefully enough that even Cliff began to relax. It was an odd feeling, she decided. The ball they had attended and the people they had shared with had bolstered the group and made smiles and laughter happen more spontaneously. That was rare enough during this journey that she tucked away all of those moments like balm to her soul- her soul where she could not quite relax. Could not quite laugh. Could not stop the sense that this journey was never going to be the same.

 

How many times had she performed this? How many times had nothing gone wrong? How many times had she been young, old, a warrior, been a person more at home in front of a mortar and pestle? At some points, she lost herself in her memories and she found herself relaxing. It was always at those moments, that she felt a shiver going down her spine and her smile would fade. Her Guard knew of course- being linked as they were, it was impossible to hide something like this. She was able to brush off their concerned looks with quiet cheer and forced herself to merely enjoy their company. 

 

After all, this time might never come again… She shivered with the thought. 

 

She knew some of her trepidation came from realizing where the seal was covering- the Void. How could someone survive a place like that? In the past, she had wondered where he was- felt his torment during the ritual-but always tried to push that question away; now, she was approaching to secure the prison again and this time she knew. 

 

There were no choices anymore, though. And she could not even entertain regret. She only hoped that her portents had been right. She hoped that if her fears were true, that Travance might help her Guard at least. She hoped…and yet, with the Beings of Fate watching over her journey, she also knew deep in her heart that hope might not be enough this time. 

 

It was time to play her cards and see if she still held the winning hand. 

 

The Healer

 

It had been so long… so very long. Now that he could feel time move again, it was exceptionally painful to him. He was so close. He could almost taste it and yet he still could not touch it, could not feel it, could not reach it, could not break it. He could not touch her, could not touch the seal that she provided against him, the seal that was weakening oh so minutely like always. And as always, he felt her approach him finally- to play out the story, the ritual, the dance between the two of them that she had always won in the past.

 

But now it was not the same. And the anticipation made him ever so giddy. 

 

Now, he felt her fear, her trepidation, her knowledge and the feeling made him want to yell in triumph. If even she knew, how could he lose this time? Still, he had to go gently, ever so gently. She had doubts and she knew something was wrong but she didn't know what. She could still succeed again and he could still be tied here but now that he could feel the time pass, he knew the agony would be even more severe. His mind might not survive another generation with this feeling. And he had his trump card- well, cards, he thought with a vicious smile. It just might be enough this time. It had to be enough this time- even against her Gifted. Even against her and her Gods’ protections. 

 

“Come to me, little Chosen. Let’s play our cards one more time and see who has the winning hand.”

 

A moment in Time is finite, small, infinitesimal to those with the capacity to wait. Galmachis, Galladel, and Kyari wait in silence, their gazes fixed on the tableau in front of them. The cards have been dealt, the game was on, and now it was in the hands of mortals. As it always was. As it always will be. 

 

What Will You Choose? Who Will You Be?